Chapter 14: The Third-Rate Warrior Who Saves the Girl
The sixtieth birthday banquet, scheduled to last a full week, wrapped up after just two days. Those who had traveled from distant castles grumbled about not getting their fill of festivities, but no one dared voice outright complaints. The Iron Sword Sect's mood had soured amid the scandal, stifling any open dissent. Despite the attendance of key figures from all corners, none received a farewell from Sect Leader Seong Cheonwol. Since the incident, Seong Cheonwol had shut himself away, while Seong Mohyeon was locked in the gold prison.
"I've mastered the Absorption Great Law! I swear it—I've mastered the Absorption Great Law!"
Seong Mohyeon screamed like a madman, but even the servants bringing his meals eyed him with resentment.
And I woke up not in my assigned quarters.
What the hell?
This wasn't silk my father or Gang Chaeseok could afford—not with their bearish builds that ill suited such finery anyway.
"Awake at last?"
"Who might you be?"
"Is that question meant to test me? To mock me? Either way, it displeases me."
"……."
"After I aided your little farce—not even amusing, mind you—this is how you treat the one who spoke of righteousness?"
As expected, Jegal Somyeong knew everything.
The Tae-eul Heart Technique was an impeccably pure cultivation method; even if Seong Cheonwol had scrambled my meridians a bit, no internal injuries resulted.
"My apologies, Total Strategist."
"Enough. Sit."
Jegal Somyeong was buried in documents, signing and reading through his backlog even now. To quench my thirst, I reached for the tea before me.
"Those mouth wounds look nasty. Should I have them fetch plain water instead?"
"Ahem… N-no, it's fine."
No internal damage, but for dramatic effect, I'd needed to vomit blood—and tore chunks from the inside of my mouth to make it real. Spicy food was off-limits for a while, smell and all.
"You knew?"
"Your condition confirmed it. Still, no internal injuries? Impressive. Does Tae-eul Gate have such an exceptional heart technique?"
"It's the foundational Tae-eul Heart Technique of our sect."
"The Tae-eul Heart Technique couldn't accumulate that much inner energy."
A question that needed no answer. What mattered was why Jegal Somyeong, knowing the truth, hadn't told the Iron Sword Sect leader.
If he'd confirmed it from my mouth wounds, he'd suspected before—and yet, rather than expose me early, he'd bolstered my ploy.
"……."
He finished one document, then unrolled another for a signature or rolled it back up.
"When did you first plan this?"
"I'm afraid I don't follow…."
"At the pre-banquet feast the night before? Or when Seong Mohyeon first mentioned the gold prison?"
"……I truly have no idea what you're talking about."
"Wasting time, are we? Must I invoke the Execution Hall and remind you how grave a sin it is to drag the Murim Alliance into your theater?"
Only then did I grasp why he'd played along despite knowing. He'd joined simply because my scheme amused him.
Remembering Jegal Cheongi's words—how brilliant minds craved novelty and ingenuity—I felt certain I could extract something from the Total Strategist.
"I haven't the foggiest what you've been on about."
"……Must I resort to the rod after all?"
"It's said a silver tongue opens mouths better than the whip ever could."
Jegal Somyeong placed the Gu Jung Sword from beside him onto the table, his face a mask of incredulity.
"You turned down Seong Moran's initial banquet invitation, didn't you?"
He'd clearly investigated the whole affair.
"The Iron Sword Sect Leader promised three Iron Heart Pills too. Did that just… vanish?"
"Heh."
From his bosom, Jegal Somyeong drew a small wooden box. I swiftly opened it to confirm the three Iron Heart Pills inside.
"…Checking it right in front of me?"
"Better safe than sorry, no?"
His expression screamed, What kind of guy is this?
"It started when I heard the Iron Sword Sect used the Gye-ryong Merchant Group to invite Tae-eul Gate."
"What?"
"A simple goodwill event? They'd have sent a proper invitation. Instead, they strong-armed us via the Gye-ryong Merchant Group, which holds sway over us. Why bother unless there's an agenda?"
"Heh…."
From my past life, I knew this all too well—no point in lying to the Total Strategist; he'd see through it.
"So you predicted Seong Mohyeon would bring up the gold prison? And how'd you plant that idea in him?"
"Which of the two intrigues you more?"
"Both."
"Then the math doesn't add up."
"What math? Without me, you'd have neither the Gu Jung Sword nor the Iron Heart Pills—maybe not even your life."
"In exchange, the Iron Sword Sect and Murim Alliance will eat endless shit for this. The Iron Sword Sect won't dream of surpassing Tae-eul Gate or entering the 108 Peaks anytime soon."
"Still, my help made it all work out."
"You didn't do the bare minimum upfront—only stepped in after the mess ballooned. That hardly counts as help."
"The bare minimum?"
"Tae-eul Gate was being unjustly squeezed, yet instead of judging right and wrong, you calculated who'd benefit the Murim Alliance more."
"…That's my job."
"So I owe you nothing—your 'help' doesn't balance the scales. Answering fully wouldn't compute."
Jegal Somyeong's jaw dropped for the first time.
"In the jianghu, men wait days with sacks of gold just for an hour with me. You'll toss that away for a few answers?"
"They're after more than gold, aren't they?"
"Ha! Nothing you want from me?"
"Tae-eul Gate took in Gye Cheolyeong just to go from two meals to three. What gain is there partnering with you?"
"Heh…."
His displeasure was blatant. Whatever— we'd likely never cross paths again. Even in the Alliance, why would I meet some Mantongbu bigwig?
"This might be the last I see of you in my life."
"……."
"Nothing more? Then I'll take my leave."
"……Tell me about predicting Seong Mohyeon would mention the gold prison."
True to form, his curiosity skewed toward strategy over martial prowess.
"It didn't have to be the gold prison specifically. Seong Mohyeon was dead certain of victory—everyone from Tae-eul Gate knew it. In that moment, losing would've been unthinkable. Any true prodigy clashing swords with me couldn't shake the suspicion of sorcery."
"……So you could've just won outright?"
"Don't you know that already?"
Jegal Somyeong was a genius warrior in his own right, not just brains. In his youth, each swing of his Iron Wire Flying Needle had painted the battlefield red with unorthodox blood.
"Then why not end the spar cleanly?"
"Winning alone gains nothing."
"……."
"A landslide victory? They'd just scheme new ways to hurt us later. But this scandal? They'll lie low at least a decade."
"I could've ignored you to the end."
"That would've gutted the Murim Alliance's legitimacy—with all those drunken spectators watching? Public opinion's already souring."
"……Even so, what if you'd been framed for mastering the gold prison to the bitter end?"
"The Execution Hall would've claimed my corpse, then autopsy proved I hadn't learned it."
Jegal Somyeong clamped his lips like he'd swallowed honey, finally speaking after a long pause.
"……You risked your life for this?"
"This? That this let the Iron Sword Sect bully us via Gye-ryong. That this left scars on my father from Seong Jutaek twenty years ago. That this drove Tae-eul Gate folk to fight the whole sect to the death."
"……."
"Isn't a Jeon-gal name worth more than gold? What makes a small sect different?"
"Hm…."
The elite always had this blind spot. Their names were sacred; ours, disposable.
That mindset had ruined the Murim Alliance in my past life.
"One question, then. If Tae-eul Gate and Jeon-gal Clan stood opposed, how would Tae-eul Gate handle us?"
"……."
I met his gaze silently. He caught on quick, chuckling in disbelief.
"Tsk. Math doesn't add up?"
"Yes."
"Fine. What would make it? I'm traveling light—no gold to offer."
Rummaging his bosom, he produced a small ivory plaque, two fingers wide, inscribed with "Entry Pass."
A legendary item, rumored but rarely seen. No Hellish Entrance Exam, no 108 Peaks special admission—this granted bloodless entry to the Murim Academy.
Priceless beyond gold, it dangled before me.
"This enough?"
I snatched the Entry Pass and pocketed it. Jegal Somyeong sighed in exasperation—again.
"Opposed to the Jeon-gal Clan. Horrifying just to imagine. Among the Five Great Clans, you're the biggest headache."
"Flattery accepted. Now speak."
"Well, I'd sell every asset Tae-eul Gate has."
"Then?"
"Split the proceeds, scatter elders and young across the land. A righteous clan like yours wouldn't hunt us down for extermination."
"……."
His look said he was watching a dog eat shit.
"That's your plan?"
"Yes."
"……."
"You wanted an answer—not the answer."
"……This a ploy too?"
"Math doesn't add up."
"……Enough with your damn math."
"May I go?"
"You'll enter the Murim Academy?"
"……Must it be me?"
"It's yours now—use as you will. It proves itself."
"Understood. I'll challenge the Academy."
"Graduating eases entry into Mantongbu."
"Yeah… sure."
Genius among geniuses—brains a must for Mantongbu. But it was the last place I wanted.
"Graduate, and I'll carve a spot for you there."
"??"
I nearly choked on his out-of-left-field nonsense. Mantongbu? In my past life, I'd drowned in paperwork, unable to fight alongside my masters. Not again this time. I'd die first.
Prolonged war would drag me to the front anyway. Better stack field experience early—for my rank, my juniors, everyone on the line.
"Ah… No interest in Mantongbu."
Jegal Somyeong tilted his head for the first time.
"Been thinking since the spar—you're a bit mad, aren't you?"
Hell, who was crazier: me, or the guy glued to a desk while his brothers died?